


Yellow hoodie in the crowd

by AndersAndrew



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clingy Rick, Foreplay, Grinding, Hoodie Morty, In Public, M/M, No Smut, Public Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, The Flesh Curtains, Touching, rockstar rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 02:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13538175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndersAndrew/pseuds/AndersAndrew
Summary: Morty really wanted to see the Flesh Curtains playing on stage. So he stole his grandpa's portal gun...





	Yellow hoodie in the crowd

**Author's Note:**

> It's a pinch hitting for the prompt "Morty going to a dimension to see Rick in his Flesh Curtains day and then proceeds to get seduced by his young grandpa. Can include public straddling/grinding, Rick shotgunning Morty (a weed thing), or just touchy Rick clinging to Morty."
> 
> English is not my native language so be indulgent please

The crowd of the spectators looked like a sea with hands - and with tentacles. It had been a long time since Rick had lost his stage fright, nevertheless to see so much world brought together to listen to his music made him always feel something - as a sensation of fist squeezed in his groin, which made its penis quiver in his leather pants. Birdperson's voice was hoarse and passionate. It injected into the unchained rhythm some melancholic accents which softened Rick's fury and Squanchy's madness with the drum. They worked in perfect harmony, like a real family.

Rick felt almost at home on stage. It was the life to which he was in now and it pleased him.

His glance got a flash of yellow lightning in the middle of the delirious fans who hurried up against the rail. He saw on the corner of his eye a yellow hoodie wore by a frail boy with big doe eyes, gleaming with total admiration, but the multicolored strobe lighting blinded Rick and when he winked, he did not any more manage to spot the kid whom he had seen. Like that had no importance, he forgot him so fast as a shot of vodka.

After the concert, there was always a group of people who waited for them at the exit to try to speak with them, to draw their attention, to obtain an autograph - or other things. It was there where he saw him again. The teenager hidden by a hood, who was so odd with his yellow hoodie in middle of punks and extraterrestrial bimbos. His eyes didn't leave Rick, and Rick felt a shiver traveling in his neck.

"Hey, you chose?", Squanchy asked by elbowing him, his arm around the waist of a magnificent Krootabulan whom he guided towards the spaceship.

They had for habit to dig up among their fans some who they enjoyed, and to spend the evening to party hard to get free the excitement of the concert. Obviously, most of the time, the fans also finished in their bed...

"You!" Rick exclaimed by pointing the boy. "Come by there."

The kid looked totally panicked, watching around him as if he was not sure that he addressed to him. Rick rolled the eyes and walked in his direction.

"You want to come with us?" He told him in the ear by putting one of his hands on the hips of the young man.

The latter stammered something in a low voice, which was covered by the shouts of the fans around them; Rick had almost forgotten them. He detailed attentively the kid who faced him, without understanding what attracted him exactly in his common physical appearance. He took his hand and pulled him slowly, without forcing.

"You come, yes or no?"

The boy followed him and they came in the ship, joining Squanchy and Birdperson who had already taken out the alcohol of the mini-bar.

 

***

 

At the beginning, Morty didn't very feel at ease. He had never participated in this kind of party, and he knew nobody.  
Well technically, he knew Rick, but not this Rick's version. He couldn't refrain from fixing him: it was Rick, and at the same time it was not him - not his, obviously. His was dead drunk in the garage, and if everything went well, he would never realize that Morty had stolen his portal gun.

Morty couldn't define clearly his impression. This Rick was very similar ... and very different. His appearance, of course, wasn't the same. He was younger, more lively. His body and mental sound had not been ravaged by decades of all kinds excess yet.  
Although apparently, to be a rockstar led him clearly in this way ...  
"You want some?" Rick proposed by giving him a bang which was the size of his forearm.

Morty indented in his seat by blushing. They had not spoken a lot, and it was the opportunity to discuss, nevertheless he didn't know what to say. He pulled at his hood to hide his eyes by lowering the head to hide at best his embarrassment.  
Rick took a draft, then dealt with the boy, caressing his chin, bewitching:  
"You're a cute one. You don't dare? You want I show you?"

Slowly, he made him raise his face and took a new draft, then, without spitting out the smoke, he again lent over Morty and put his lips on his so that he opens the mouth. When the teenager obeys, he blew the smoke and took advantage of it to kiss him, sliding his tongue against his.

Morty moaned by coughing and by winking eyelids, incapable to react as he would have wanted. Rick put his bony hands on each side of Morty's face and came to sit down on his lap, letting the bang falling on the ground. Before the boy was able to protest, Rick threw himself greedily on his lips, the staggering against the backrest of his seat.

Morty noticed that Squanchy and Birdperson were also busy with making almost the same thing with their respective partners. And meanwhile, Rick's hands traveled on his body, trying to tuck up his hoodie, to strip his stomach and probably to sneak in his pants. His kisses were addictive, worse than the smoke which floated in the air over them, and if he didn't move away by himself, he knew that Rick wouldn't stop. He already was sliding his lips in his neck, and the boy put himself in moans, incapable to push away him. He felt dizzy and he was hot, so hot that his back was dipped by sweat. He could touch Rick's bare arms, and just that, that sent shivers in his crotch.  
He didn't manage to imagine what could take place if Rick managed to put one of his hands in his pants...

Rick's tongue caressed the shell of his ear.  
"I could maybe keep you", he whispered. "After."  
"A-a-after what?" Morty hiccupped, with a choked voice.  
Rick raised sent him an at the same time sure of himself and sarcastic smile.  
"Don't worry, you are going to know very fast."  
With a dry gesture, he pulled at his belt and opened his leather pants. The boy opened wide eyes by blushing, without moving, like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

***

 

As every time, Rick woke up with a terrible hangover. He was naked on the ground, covered with a small blanket which didn't cover his feet - they were cold and he moved his toes to wake them. There were empty cans on the ground, powder on the coffee table. Squanchy snored dully, lengthened on the bare-chested of his lover, whereas Birdperson smoked quietly in the water pipe, blowing circles of smoke, whereas both girls nested in his feathers still slept.

Rick sat down by grumbling on the carpet, rubbed himself the head to try to collect his ideas, and looked around him. He was alone. Why he was alone?  
"If you look for the one with whom you spent at night, it left for a long time", Birdperson declared with a serene tone.

Sometimes he was so talented to irritate Rick.  
"Where?"  
"He put this blanket on you to avoid you getting ill, and he opened a portal with a portal gun."  
Rick quickly raised.

"He has what? How he had a portal gun?"  
"I asked", Birdperson said still calmly. "He said that he had stolen it to come to our concert but right now he had to return it to its owner."

"He hasn't say where he came?" Rick mumbled pitifully.  
"No, but he left that", the hybrid told by pointing something with the finger.  
Rick turned the head and saw the hoodie folded on the sofa where he had taken care of the boy's virginity - sweet, so sweet memory.  
He searched fervently in the pockets a hint, something, without finding anything of interesting: just a pack of bubble gum, a flyer and the ticket of the concert.  
The bass player deflated.  
"The little son of a bitch...run off like that..."

He frowned and pouted by carrying the cloth at his nose.  
"Hmmm idiot" he muttered without knowing if he spoke about the boy or about himself to be also sentimental.  
He layed down again, sinkin into the unconsciousness, his nose plunged into the smell left by Morty on the hoodie.

 


End file.
